


Simple Maneuvers

by Merfilly



Series: To Build A Future [11]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death Fix, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron has chosen a new path for his protege.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Maneuvers

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Post Dark of the Moon Novelization AU  
> 2\. Use of the canonical Hatchlings, now more mature.

_Optimus,_

 _Send a medic or engineer with frame-craft knowledge. I have a special commission._

 _This will give you a chance to spy on my progress._

 _But don't send your pet. The atmosphere is still toxic to its species._

 _Megatron_

Optimus Prime, accustomed to brief and encrypted messages from his brother arriving via the hyper-space relay, sighed. No matter how many times he told Megatron that Mikaela was not a pet, his brother insisted on calling her that. He considered sending a reply via the relay, but then canceled that option. While the relay was the most useful application of space-bridge technology, Megatron had requested a medic. Or engineer, he reminded himself, but he already knew he would ask Ratchet first. They were all curious about Cybertron, and Optimus trusted Ratchet to survive anything that might be in store, including treachery. First Aid was too impressionable, after all, and Wheeljack was far too … himself.

Ratchet also had the benefit of actually being on Mars currently, where Prime was. They rotated personnel down to Earth, but under the treaty with the UN, their sovereign nation was now on the fourth planet of the solar system. Humans maintained a presence in their domed and tunneled cities, where atmosphere was kept stable for the humans. However, things were built in and on Mars with Cybertronians in mind first, humans second.

The gravity did wondrous things for humans as a whole, they had found, which was one reason Mikaela had moved there as soon as there was more than one quad to house anyone in. Sam and Carly were their chief ambassadors on Earth these days, while Robert Epps and his wife as well as others had rotated in and out of both sides of the human embassy.

Optimus Prime rarely went to Earth now, with his cohort coordinating between the Embassy there and on Mars. He felt it necessary, as regnant, to be among his own people as much as possible. More Autobots had arrived, and, surprisingly to him, some Decepticons who feared reprisal by the ruling class on Cybertron for various war transgressions. Prime gave sanctuary, but he knew that at least a few were honestly spies for either Megatron or Soundwave. It was no less than Optimus making it a point to debrief incoming Autobots that had been found or released from 'Con controlled areas.

::Ratchet, join me in operations?::

::On my way, Optimus.::

`~`~`~`~`

Path Finder declared her existence the moment she broke free of the FTL drive, announcing to Decepticon Command that she was carrying an Autobot ambassador. The flurry of 'Stand off or be destroyed' and 'Processing request' would have been amusing if it were not for the fact she was antsy enough being in this region of space.

::Awaiting permission to at least orbit, Ambassador.::

::Slag that title, bitlet,:: Ratchet groused at the young explorer. It was so odd to deal with one who had not been a part of the main war, but rather part of an offshoot of both their race and the war itself. ::Still thankful you came by when you did. Sky Lynx was being surly about the ride.::

::Autobots need more spacers,:: Path Finder told the medic, before settling to wait for permission.

`~`~`~`~`

Megatron was waiting, personally, as the cometary Autobot unfolded on the landing field. He was also alone, something that did Ratchet's processor good. Ironhide had been insistent this was a trap and tried to be attached as a bodyguard. Ratchet had quashed that idea by pointing out that Annabelle had an important conference and would need him more.

Ratchet sized up the Lord High Protector, seeing the complete confidence with something akin to fear in his spark. He forced it away; of course Megatron held all the power right now. "Megatron," he said, dispensing with titles in the only mark of disapproval he would show.

"Still the same hard-cased mech, Ratchet," Megatron said, approving of the temerity. "I am honored to see my brother credits my demand with his best."

//Slagger, if you think he would ever risk a young mech here…// Ratchet kept those thoughts off his faceplates.

"You mentioned a need for frame-crafting. Last I knew, Hook had survived, and his frames were superior to most," Ratchet pointed out, falling in step with the tyrant as they strode toward the palace. For better or worse, he was here until Path Finder completed her supply trade at Lithone and returned to acquire him.

"It is not suitable for my purposes to allow him to craft a final frame for the mech I have in mind," Megatron said smoothly.

Ratchet did a quick tally of time, and there was no way, even if there had been protoforms on the Nemesis, any of them could have been developed to the point of a final upgrade so soon. Not without some diabolical stimulation, and that made Ratchet's temper flare beyond politically acceptable levels. "What have you done to some scraplet, Megatron?!"

Megatron laughed. "How little you think of me, Ratchet," the tyrant said with glee in that fact. "But no, he should have one intermediate stage left yet. However, I am looking to you, and the mech in question, to bridge this. How different from engendering a frame-build could it be?"

"You maniacal, insane mech, there's pits-loads of difference! There's personality modules and processing power that has to adapt to more power than it has grown into and…"

"Then it is a good thing my brother sent me his best," Megatron cut him off with impatience. "You will make it work, Ratchet."

There was no more discussion, as Megatron showed the mech to a suite that was both workshop and recharge room, near to his own quarters. The medic could only fume, but even he knew better than to push what passed for a leash on that unruly, chaotic temper.

`~`~`~`~`

The noise on Autobot channels was muted as Ratchet settled in, scanning over the dossier Megatron had left for him concerning his new project. Seeker, allowed to have input into his final frame design, carefully tutored to serve as an upper-rank advisor… and before Ratchet could really think about what that said on his host, there was a flare of activity that made the medic tense.

::…get down…::

::…not here…::

::…gonna die…::

The sounds, surrounded by the crackle of distance and interference, cut out completely, and the entire Autobot band of the communication spectrum went silent for long enough that Ratchet decided he had either hallucinated the initial noise, or that he had purposefully been isolated from it.

Then it returned, with none of the fragmented stress-thoughts in it, just relaying the normal routine of those Autobots functioning as part of the rebuilding crew.

Ratchet was going to need to get out of the palace, because those fragments concerned him far more than anything else he had yet encountered.

`~`~`~`~`

Of course Ratchet had fallen into light recharge before his patient deigned to show up. The instant the immature Seeker swept into the room, Ratchet felt all his struts stiffen and his processors come fully online. The scraplet walked with arrogance, heel-thrusters never deigning to touch the decking, with his wings flared wide and open. The sneer on his faceplates spoke volumes, and Ratchet realized that this scraplet had no idea what Megatron intended… and was hiding it with the same cockiness Starscream had held for vorns upon vorns.

"Scion," the mechling introduced, which alleviated some of Ratchet's worries. The voice was at least normal.

"Ratchet, as you know already." The medic walked around the scraplet, taking in the make of his frame so far, then shook his helm. "Megatron's insane."

"Oh look, something I agree with an Autobot on," the spectral Starscream said, unheard by Ratchet and unheeded by the suddenly enraged Scion.

"You dare!" Scion roared, lunging from where he had been preening for the inspection to trying to get his hands around the medic's neck or in his spark casing, preferably. Unfortunately for the irate scraplet, Ratchet had more experience defending himself from Decepticons than anything else save repairing 'bots. Scion wound up face down, pinned, one arm yanked up and around, and the uncomfortable pressure of a knee in a wing.

"The medic is feisty," Starscream cheerfully commented, ignored by the one of the pair who could actually hear him.

"Political disagreements aside, I suggest you not try that again, and I will reiterate it: he's gone loose in the processor, because he expects me to take you, scraplet, and make you fit a full-size, final frame," Ratchet growled, not easing pressure until the shock of his words made the Seeker go limply pliant.

"My Lord wishes me… to upgrade? Fully?"

Ratchet wanted to curse for a breem at that worshipful, hungry, and eager-to-please voice coming out of the scraplet even as he moved to allow the young Seeker up. He did snort, echoed by a disdainful noise from the ghostly Starscream, which Scion did snap a glare for, as he got back to his pedes.

"You will not find it easy, scraplet. Now get out, and come back after I've had time to process your scans against the data your oh so generous Lord gave me," Ratchet snapped, using sarcasm heavily in his tone for that last.

Scion decided not to notice it, considering. If this mech was to help him upgrade, he would bite back his own response. Later, he could eviscerate the disrespectful mech.

After he was worthy of true notice from his Lord.


End file.
